


Do You Believe in Magic

by EventHorizon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Demons, Gen, Pre-Johnlock, pre-Mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if John Watson had met Greg Lestrade in another time and in another place.  And Greg is not exactly who he seems to be...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Believe in Magic

      “This is preposterous!  And the fact that you believe it astounds me!”

John set down the cups of tea between the brothers and retreated back to the kitchen.  He’d already suffered Sherlock’s prolonged wrath over this case and his inability to solve it and couldn’t see a way that enduring more would make his life any more pleasant.

      “He comes very highly recommended.”

      “By whom?  The witches in Macbeth?

      “By several law enforcement agencies and other, shall we say, agencies tasked to safeguard the public welfare.  All I ask is that you meet with him.”

      “Then you are asking too much and shall be sadly disappointed.”

      “You have exhausted all possible avenues of investigation and, despite your attempts to construct a smokescreen to hide the facts, you have stagnated.  You _will_ receive the gentleman and you _will_ provide for him any materials and information that he requires.  I am not unaware of the illogic of consulting a psychic, however, this matter must be resolved immediately.  Expect him to arrive after lunch.  John?  Do try and ensure that my brother is, at minimum, non-violent towards your guest.”

      “No promises.  He’s been hoping for a live target to chase with my firearm, so I hope this bloke’s wearing lead pants.”

      “I shall send him a text.”

__________

A few minutes after one o’clock the bell sounded and John heard Mrs. Hudson directing their visitor upstairs, which sent him into the kitchen to start the tea.

      “Look, Sherlock.  I agree that this person is probably some kind of nutter, but it won’t kill you to simply nod a few times then send him on his way.  Without, mind you, making him cry in the process.”

      “Then I shall take _no_ enjoyment from this meeting.”

      “I’ll order extra egg rolls with dinner to make you feel better.”

      “I accept your pacification.”

      “Mr. Holmes?”

Sherlock turned to take stock of their visitor and found… what he expected.  Nothing of note, but at least the fool wasn’t wearing a robe or weighed down by a plethora of talismans around his neck.  Simple, inexpensive shirt and trousers, nondescript shoes, clean shaven… the only nod to originality was the shock of silver hair that topped his head.

      “I am, today, unfortunate to possess that name.”

      “Well, maybe tomorrow you’ll get a better one.  My name’s Lestrade.  Greg Lestrade.”

      “T…that’s one I haven’t heard before.”

Sherlock whirled at the purely shocked sound of his assistant’s voice and stumbled slightly seeing John’s widened eyes and trembling hands.  And he could make no deduction about why their visitor started to laugh.

      “You’ve got to be kidding me… what’s the line?  Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…”

      “John?”

      “What in the hell are you doing here?”

      “Earning a living.  How about you?  Been a long time…”

      “If you’re here to cause trouble…”

      “Why would I do that, Johnny-boy?  And it’s not like you could stop me if I wanted to anyway.”

      “Maybe I couldn’t but Sherlock’s quicker than I am and he thinks a lot like you.  Don’t mistake him for an easy target, just because he’s a civilian.”

      “ENOUGH!”

Two sets of eyes turned toward Sherlock, who was vibrating with anger, confusion and extreme frustration that he had absolutely no idea what was going on.

      “This is not acceptable!  John, you will explain yourself!”

Their guest ran his eyes up and down Sherlock’s long frame and something in his bright and boyish smile actually made Sherlock’s blood run cold.

      “Bit of diva, isn’t he?  So… yeah, I guess he _is_ like me.”

      “Why don’t you drop the accent?  You don’t even do it right.”

      “And you, Mr. Soldier, were the perfect Parisian, weren’t you, when we were in Egypt?  Playing up the dumb tourist to get the attention of the tastiest tarts the streets had to offer.”

      “Oh fuck you!”

      “Again?  Once was enough, thank you very much.  I walked funny for a week afterwards.”

      “JOHN!”

      “He’s lying.  It’s what he does best.”

      “That is slander.  I’m not even sure how that rumor got started.  Probably biblical, somehow.  We always got a bad rap from that rag.”

      “A bad rap!  You eat people!  I’ve seen you do it!”

      “They weren’t very nice people.”

      “Oh my god, you and Sherlock should do the flat share and let me go find some nice librarian or something.”    

      “JOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!”

      “Mummy’s calling.”

      “FUCK YOU WHATEVER YOU’RE CALLING YOURSELF!”

      “Greg.  Nice and easy.  A lot fewer pesky consonants than my real name.  I think you broke your tongue trying to pronounce it that one time.  Or was that when you were using your tongue to…”

      “Gun, Sherlock.  Just go and get my gun…”

      “JOHN WATSON YOU WILL REPORT!”

      “Fine. You really want to know?  This git’s a demon.  Supernatural being.  From the other side of reality.  And a complete bastard.”

      “My parents were most certainly married, thank you very much.”

      “You don’t _have_ parents.”

      “A tiny lie.  If I _did_ they would have been married.  I’m very traditional about things like that, John.  May we actually sit so you can continue your mental breakdown in comfort?”

      “JUST WAIT ONE MOMENT!”

      “No.”

Sherlock hissed at the… man… who dropped himself into Sherlock’s armchair and grinned up at the bristling detective.  Sherlock subsequently hurled himself into John’s usual chair with great flair and the now-very-tired doctor just sighed over the fact that _this_ was his life.  Luckily the whistle from the kitchen chose that moment to sound.

      “Ok, kettle’s ready.  _Greg_ , want some tea?”

      “You are offering tea to a creature of evil?”

      “Well, drinking it won’t make him _more_ evil, so why not be polite?  Don’t worry, Sherlock, you get a cup, too.”

And John would have whiskey, but that would remain his little secret.

      “So, you’re John’s what… flatmate?”

      “He is my assistant, as well.  When he can be bothered to pry himself from the dripping noses and festering crotches of the masses.”

      “Yeah, always had that Mr. Helper streak.  He’s good at it, though.  I’ve seen him do miraculous things with wounded soldiers.  And I do _not_ use the word miraculous very often.”

      “Do NOT gossip about me when I’m not in the room!”

      “Drink more of that whiskey you think I can’t smell and you won’t care anymore!  Not even the good stuff… Remind me to send you something decent.”

      “You and John are close.”

      “ _Are_?  No.  _Were_?  Maybe.”

      “Is this part of the stereotypically-enigmatic persona of beings of a diabolical nature?  How disappointing.”

      “Ennui becomes you, Sherlock.  And no, I will not call you Mr. Holmes.  I’ll save that for the deliciously-arrogant morsel that calls himself your brother.  At least for right now.  Later he'll be calling himself _mine_ , but I’ll have to buy him a drink first.  That’s important nowadays, just so you know.”

      “Mycroft suffering sexual devastation by a creature from the pit?  I cannot find a reason to object.”

      “Oh, I _do_ like you.  And I see why John does, too.”

Sherlock definitely wanted to pursue both of those sentences, but held his tongue when John returned with the tea.

      “Alright, Sherlock…stop glaring at me.  It’s like this.  I met up with this idiot when I first signed on for military service and…”

      “What John hates to say is that I saved his life.  It makes his martyrdom look a little hypocritical.”

      “When he was shot?”

      “Nah, long before that.  And for nothing as valorous.  Stupid kid took a walk in the wrong part of town when he was on leave and got himself jumped for his troubles.  I risked my own safety to …”

      “You were buggering a rent boy in an alley!  He ran away when the fighting started and you decided that if you couldn’t have fun one way, you’d have it another.”

      “Thank you, John, for completely destroying my tale of heroism.”

      “Tale of hedonism, you mean.  You tried to make me _pay_ for that bit of help.”

      “And he means pay in the ‘payment in kind’ sense.  He still has a lovely bottom, too, wouldn’t you say? The years haven’t changed that one bit.”

      “John’s buttocks are not your concern.”

      “Not anymore, more’s the pity.”

      “Lying.  Try a new act, _Greg_.”

      “Why, when the old one’s a classic?  Now, might as well get down to business.  I did come here for a reason, you know, joyful surprise notwithstanding.  Actually, my sweet joyful surprise makes this much easier.”

Sherlock watched their guest draw a slip of paper from his pocket and only hesitated a second taking it from the man’s fingers.

      “That’s the name and address of the individual you’re looking for.  Normally, I have to do the whole psychic and supernatural act and toss out clue after clue until the clods in law enforcement finally catch the person.  This is so much easier.”

      “And why are you assisting in this?  I would assume this serial killer would be the one you would seek to support instead.”

      “Despite what you’ve read, Sherlock, we’re not about _good and evil_.  We’re more about being fucking bored having lived as long as we have and… just wanting to have a little fun once in awhile.”

Which the detective could sympathize with completely.

      “Anyway, that particular moron is going to be very hard to take down, so I’ll give you a few things to make it easier.  Normally, I have to provide a little out-of-sight assistance when John Law moves in, but you can handle this one alone with a little help.  Or, who know, maybe I’ll come along and enjoy the party.”

      “Oh god, he’s one of you!”

      “I always adored your brains, John.  Well, after I finished adoring your bum.  Yeah, one of the family and that’s why he’s got to go.”

      “You would take steps to bring about the destruction of one of your own?  Why not do this yourself and avoid human entanglement altogether?”

      “Because, great detective, we don’t kill each other.  Not a lot of hard rules among us lads, but that’s one of them.”

      “Betrayal for the purposes of achieving the same end is, however, accepted?”

      “Oh sure.  No problem there.  And this one deserves it.  Do not suffer the stupid to live.  Words to build a philosophy on.”

      “Why?  In all the time I knew you, I only met, what?  Three, maybe four others like you?  And they all seemed… well, as ridiculous and petty as you are.”

      “Those were the ones I _let_ you meet, John.  But, you’re right, most aren’t a problem for anyone.  However, a few decide to make life hard for the rest of us.”

The creature turned back towards Sherlock and Sherlock saw something both dark and bright flash in the eyes staring at him.

      “We’re not totally invulnerable, you see.  Not all of those stories about humans killing my kind are complete bollocks.  It _can_ happen.  As long as people don’t know about us, where we are… we don’t have a problem.  It’s harder now, what with all the technology out there that’s getting better every day… You get someone like this tit, going around killing people in a very splashy fashion and it draws attention.  He actually gets caught, taken alive, and who knows what they find out about him.  We do _not_ need the exposure.”

      “Could you not simply return to your… plane of existence?”

      “Pick the most boring moment of the most boring day of the most boring year of your life and multiply it by a factor of infinity.  Home sweet home.”

      “The diversions we offer make the risk worthwhile.”

      “Exactly!  Yeah, you understand, Sherlock.  I can tell.”

      “Greg… god, that’s going to take some getting used to… is this what you’ve been doing?  Mycroft said you had a reputation…”

      “And we _both_ know how well deserved that is.”

      “Lies.  And I’m serious.  You’ve been going around helping to take down your… people… who’ve gone wrong somehow?”

      “ _Wrong_ is debatable.  Foolish and public are better.  And it’s win-win.  You get a criminal off the streets and I get to sleep a little easier at night.”

      “ _Do_ you sleep?”

      “There’s the detective's curiosity I’ve been waiting to see.  Yeah, we do.  Remember, John?  Cold desert nights with you curled up sleeping against me, with my wings wrapped around you…”

      “And _more_ lying.”

      “WINGS!  You actually have wings?”

      “I do!  Want to see them?”

      “YES!”

      “NO!  Do not unfurl those god-awful things in here.  I just tidied up and I do _not_ want to have to pick up after you’ve knocked everything on the floor.”

      “Fine, then I’ll take Sherlock on the roof.  Give him a _full_ view.”

      “He does _not_ want to see you prancing around naked.”

      “Sure about that?  What say, Sherlock?  What’s a little nudity when you can see real demon wings, and horns…”

      “You don’t have horns.”

      “… and talons and… well, you could write a poem about the beauty of my skin…”

      “It’s about the same color as an unripe avocado.  Nothing to crow about there.”

      “I’ve got nice eyes, at least, you bastard.”

      “Ok, I’ll give you that.  Amethyst is actually a good color for eyes.”

      “There you go!  Ready?”

      “John… we shall return.”

      “Perfect.  Sherlock, whatever you do, just don’t bend over or say yes if he asks if you want to taste something delicious.”

      “Protecting his innocence.  That’s the doctor part of you, I suppose.”

Though Sherlock was fairly certain something in the demon’s expression told a different story.  Their demonic visitor jumped up from the chair and motioned Sherlock to lead the way and when they made their way to the roof, Sherlock was actually not surprised when the man did not immediately strip, despite John’s sexual hysteria.

      “You wish to discuss John.”

      “Smart.  I like that.  That’s good and good for him.”

      “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

      “And there we go  losing the smart.  Trying to lie to me is the complete _opposite_ of smart, so don’t do it again.  Here’s the thing… I like John.  He’s really the only person I’ve been able to call a friend in… well, you don’t want to know how long.  I wasn’t there when he got shot, which I’ll regret to whenever my dying day comes, and I figured… maybe it was time he got back to a normal life.  Maybe this was his chance to put all of the war and… all of me behind him.  No more soldiering and gadding about with a non-human keeping him from just finding something real that could give him a _good_ life.  But I never forgot him and never will.  So, if you do anything to hurt him and I’m using the word hurt in a _very_ broad sense, I will kill you.  John wasn’t lying about me eating people, either, so believe me that when I say they won’t find your body, I am being completely truthful.”

Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat.  No matter that it was a direct threat on his life, this man was protecting John.  And he could not bring himself to find fault with that, especially since he worried terribly that one day he _would_ hurt the doctor.  Especially if he ever exposed more of himself… more of his feelings…

      “Very well.  And may I offer you a similar promise?  I do hope the day shall never come when the techniques in which you will tutor me need be employed to revenge John’s pain.”

His eyes _were_ amethyst… and glittered like jewels.

      “No worries.  I wouldn’t hurt him, not in any way.  Especially not since I see how happy he is now.  With you.”

Now was not the time to ruminate on how the creature meant the last portion of his statement, but it would be the prime focus of Sherlock’s concentration once John went to bed for the night.

      “And are you in London for long?  I am certain that John would enjoy spending additional time with you.  He does have a fondness for ‘his old mates.’ “

      “Dunno.  I’ve always liked London, even at its smelliest and most corrupt.  Honestly, I usually just move around, finding a good time where I can and keeping an ear to the ground for situations where I need to step in and clean up the mess.”

      “I would wager that the number of so-called messes in this city and of those cities in easy reach are numerous, in comparison to other locales.”

      “Could be.  You saying you want me to stick around?  I think my nethers are starting to wake up.”

      “I am saying that you could be useful to my investigations.”

      “And another body around to keep an eye on John is not a bad thing either.”

      “As long as your eye is the only thing that is _on_ John, yes.”

      “Hmmm… interesting offer.  I’ll give it some thought.  Besides, it’ll give me some time to get to know that brother of yours a little better.”

      “He is an officious, meddlesome, frigid…”

      “I love a challenge.  And he’s not frigid, by the way… my sense of smell’s very good and he definitely liked what yours truly had to offer.  Even in _this_ body.  And he seems the type who’ll take the real me very much in stride.  Like it, too.”

      “Disgusting.  Will you now set aside that offensive topic and allow me to study your true form?  John will not appreciate if he is ignored for too long a time, something I have learned much to the pain in my ears from his nattering.”

      “Can there be touching?”

      “Only so much as is necessary.”

      “Spoilsport.  Ok, stand back, these things take up a lot of space.”

And Sherlock watched in awe as a simple human man transformed into something… wondrous.  He might have to rescind his opposition to unnecessary touching… that tail was fascinating…

**Author's Note:**

> Posted originally on my tumblr. Feel free to stop by and check out the other Sherlock or Cabin Pressure fics I've got posted over in that campground:
> 
> http://eventhorizon451.tumblr.com/short_works


End file.
